From whatever angle or perspective you look at it, a sphere has the same visual proportions. I am a constant - nothing more, nothing less...and my musings just that - random thoughts pulled from the recesses of my daily observations. Welcome aboard.
Tuesday, 31 May 2005
Review: Jo Bole So Nihaal
Watched 'Jo Bole So Nihal' (translation: Blessed are those who call out God's name) to see what the political fuss in India was all about. My conclusion ? Overall a mediocre film, with occasional funny (albeit stereotypical) situations about Jats and sardars. Even the casteist subtitle to the movie - "No if's...no buts...sirf Jat!" portrays the low expectations this movie radiates from the outset. The key to being able to watch this film, without flinching at some of pointlessly embarrassing scenes, is to not view this as some kind of social commentary on the Sikh diaspora, but as an inane Bollywood flick where the interweaving of comedy within the themes of family village honour, terrorism, New York fast life and vulgar sexual innuendo results in a poorly concocted mixture which disappoint viewers at either end of the religious-secular spectrum.
Sunny Deol stars as 'Nihal' a Punjab village policeman (or Jat cop if you like) who through a combination of improbable circumstances, is transported to New York to chase down the notorious Romeo - a paid hitman who has a habit of killing priests after confessing about his murderous activities the previous week. Nihal makes it clear from the outset that his primary motivation for tracking Romeo is to restore his honour amongst his fellow villagers who mistakenly suspect he colluded with allowing Romeo to escape after an encounter in some fields. The message is clear - you can rob, steal or murder - but don't ever insult a Sardar Jat - the price is too heavy to even think about. The rest is all too predictable - apparently appealing to the gracious Waheguru (God) and shouting the Sikh war cry of 'Jo Bole So Nihal' every 2 minutes, allows one to defeat all and sundry and get out of the tightest of corners.
As expected from such a 'quality' production, the main female characters are there to provide little more than a fleshfest. I won't even bother mentioning who they were, as these days upcoming Bollywood starlets who are willing to strip are dime a dozen these days. Some might find the scene of Nihal finishing his session of fornicating with the culturally lost FBI Agent Suzanne (aka Satinder Kaur) a bit much, and which provides no added value to the storyline except to add further ridicule to the film.
After watching this film, I believe it should have been re-named something else. To evoke such a sacred mantra of words, and associate it with a commercial production which has no spiritual or uplifting content whatsoever, is to do grave injustice to a faith which shed much blood in it's history so as to have the right to say 'Jo Bole So Nihal'.
Film rating: 4/10.
Wednesday, 25 May 2005
Insane or Insaan ?
Why do 'insane' and 'insaan' look and sound so similar ? Given that both words probably have their roots in the same Indo-Germanic family of languages, perhaps somebody is trying to tell us something ?? :)
Tuesday, 24 May 2005
Mid Year Resolutions
Today could the perfect day to turn over a new leaf, acquire a new skill and step forward to a bright new future. Apparently, May 18 is the ideal time of year to make that New Year resolution you would not have kept if you had made it on January 1.
Psychologists say good resolutions stand a better chance when the sun is in the ascendence and the feelgood factor is on the increase.
All the auguries fit the formula M x O + Bh (H+R) x S, where M is for motivation, O for opportunity, Bh for proximity to a bank/public holiday, H for the increasing hours of daylight, R for reflection time and S, naturally, for success. It all adds up to May 18, according to psychologist Cliff Arnall.
Mr Arnall's formula is in the great tradition of wacky science. Experts have, in recent years, formulated the equation behind the perfect biscuit for dunking in tea; manipulated the mathematics of the ideal fried potato chip; explored the ideal geometry for stone-skimming across a pond; calculated the relative flatness of pancakes and the plains of Kansas; and even the established the variables in the formula for the perfect joke.
But behind the merry math ematics of good resolution, there is a serious purpose.
Mr Arnall is a lecturer in the department of lifelong learning at Cardiff University. Earlier this year he calculated that New Year resolutions were a bad idea because New Year's Day marked a decline for most people, who reached a nadir on January 24 - his mathematical model candidate for the most depressing day of the year.
May 18, however, marked a moment of maximum opportunity.
"It is really about encouraging people, motivating people. In terms of nature, you've got renewal, trees, flowers, longer hours, increasing energy.
"This is a really good time to take an excellent decision to really boost your confidence," he said.
However, there is no body of scientific evidence to back up the theory. Mr Arnall said he derived his motivational formula after observing people attending his workshops on those intangible topics of success, happiness and stress. "I see this on a day to day basis, and the difference it can make to people's lives," he said.
"There is no doubt at all that for people who are making decisions because they want to - rather than because of an external reason such as January 1 - it makes better sense. They are ready to make the change because they want to."
Psychologists say good resolutions stand a better chance when the sun is in the ascendence and the feelgood factor is on the increase.
All the auguries fit the formula M x O + Bh (H+R) x S, where M is for motivation, O for opportunity, Bh for proximity to a bank/public holiday, H for the increasing hours of daylight, R for reflection time and S, naturally, for success. It all adds up to May 18, according to psychologist Cliff Arnall.
Mr Arnall's formula is in the great tradition of wacky science. Experts have, in recent years, formulated the equation behind the perfect biscuit for dunking in tea; manipulated the mathematics of the ideal fried potato chip; explored the ideal geometry for stone-skimming across a pond; calculated the relative flatness of pancakes and the plains of Kansas; and even the established the variables in the formula for the perfect joke.
But behind the merry math ematics of good resolution, there is a serious purpose.
Mr Arnall is a lecturer in the department of lifelong learning at Cardiff University. Earlier this year he calculated that New Year resolutions were a bad idea because New Year's Day marked a decline for most people, who reached a nadir on January 24 - his mathematical model candidate for the most depressing day of the year.
May 18, however, marked a moment of maximum opportunity.
"It is really about encouraging people, motivating people. In terms of nature, you've got renewal, trees, flowers, longer hours, increasing energy.
"This is a really good time to take an excellent decision to really boost your confidence," he said.
However, there is no body of scientific evidence to back up the theory. Mr Arnall said he derived his motivational formula after observing people attending his workshops on those intangible topics of success, happiness and stress. "I see this on a day to day basis, and the difference it can make to people's lives," he said.
"There is no doubt at all that for people who are making decisions because they want to - rather than because of an external reason such as January 1 - it makes better sense. They are ready to make the change because they want to."
Thursday, 19 May 2005
2005 Uefa Cup Final
Uefa Cup Final Result:
Sporting Lisbon 1 CSKA Moscow 3.
It's good to see an East European side win a trophy. :)
CSKA Moscow's Uefa Cup victory will herald a new dawn in Russian football, says CSKA coach Valery Gazzayev. Thousands took to the streets in Moscow to celebrate the 3-1 win in Lisbon that sealed Russia's first European trophy.
"It's is a great achievement of Russian football," said Gazzayev, who believes it is also proof a Russian side could reach the Champions League final.
"I'm proud of my players, I'm proud of our fans and I'm proud of my country."
The country's prime minister Mikhail Fradkov also joined the celebratory mood saying: "I would like to congratulate the CSKA players and coaches along with all Russian football lovers for a historic win."
Boris Gryzlov, speaker of the lower house of parliament, even suggested that 18 May could forever now be known as "The Day of Russian Soccer."
"People will be going to stadiums and seeing the appearance of new soccer idols," he said.
Gazzayev said it was a "landmark" for Russian football.
"Now every child in Russian youth football schools will know what to work for and what to dream about and will know those dreams can become true," he said.
"This...will give the nation the belief to go on and win more things at both club and international level. I hope the next medal I pick up will be a Champions League one," he said.
Powered by a £29m sponsorship deal with Russian oil company Sibneft, of which Chelsea's billionaire owner Roman Abramovich is still the majority shareholder, CSKA only just failed to make it into the knockout rounds of this season's Champions League.
Having come through a second qualifying-round tie against Azerbaijan's Neftchi Baku in July, CSKA were paired with Porto, Chelsea and Paris St Germain.
A 3-1 win over the French side in their final game did not prove quite enough - Porto's last-gasp win over Chelsea putting the Portuguese side through and leaving CSKA to settle for a place in the last 32 of the Uefa Cup.
As a result, captain Sergei Semak left for Paris St Germain and Czech midfielder Jiri Jarosik joined Chelsea.
The team also had to cope with the departure of homesick Brazilian striker Vagner Love, though he later returned, and it was his goals, capped by the third against Sporting, that helped CSKA seal their Uefa Cup success.
Since the fall of the Soviet Union, Russian teams have endured lean times. The national side has never advanced past the first stage of the World Cup or European Championship, while club sides have continued a barren run in Europe.
But there are also signs the growing financial muscle of Russian clubs means they can attract top players. Last week Dynamo Moscow splashed out £14m ($25.7m) to sign Porto pair Maniche and Costinha, who joined their former team-mate Derlei in the Russian capital. Spartak paid £8.2m (12m euros) for talented young Argentine Fernando Cavenaghi and Lokomotiv brought home Russia striker Dmitri Sychev from Olympique Marseille.
Sporting Lisbon 1 CSKA Moscow 3.
It's good to see an East European side win a trophy. :)
CSKA Moscow's Uefa Cup victory will herald a new dawn in Russian football, says CSKA coach Valery Gazzayev. Thousands took to the streets in Moscow to celebrate the 3-1 win in Lisbon that sealed Russia's first European trophy.
"It's is a great achievement of Russian football," said Gazzayev, who believes it is also proof a Russian side could reach the Champions League final.
"I'm proud of my players, I'm proud of our fans and I'm proud of my country."
The country's prime minister Mikhail Fradkov also joined the celebratory mood saying: "I would like to congratulate the CSKA players and coaches along with all Russian football lovers for a historic win."
Boris Gryzlov, speaker of the lower house of parliament, even suggested that 18 May could forever now be known as "The Day of Russian Soccer."
"People will be going to stadiums and seeing the appearance of new soccer idols," he said.
Gazzayev said it was a "landmark" for Russian football.
"Now every child in Russian youth football schools will know what to work for and what to dream about and will know those dreams can become true," he said.
"This...will give the nation the belief to go on and win more things at both club and international level. I hope the next medal I pick up will be a Champions League one," he said.
Powered by a £29m sponsorship deal with Russian oil company Sibneft, of which Chelsea's billionaire owner Roman Abramovich is still the majority shareholder, CSKA only just failed to make it into the knockout rounds of this season's Champions League.
Having come through a second qualifying-round tie against Azerbaijan's Neftchi Baku in July, CSKA were paired with Porto, Chelsea and Paris St Germain.
A 3-1 win over the French side in their final game did not prove quite enough - Porto's last-gasp win over Chelsea putting the Portuguese side through and leaving CSKA to settle for a place in the last 32 of the Uefa Cup.
As a result, captain Sergei Semak left for Paris St Germain and Czech midfielder Jiri Jarosik joined Chelsea.
The team also had to cope with the departure of homesick Brazilian striker Vagner Love, though he later returned, and it was his goals, capped by the third against Sporting, that helped CSKA seal their Uefa Cup success.
Since the fall of the Soviet Union, Russian teams have endured lean times. The national side has never advanced past the first stage of the World Cup or European Championship, while club sides have continued a barren run in Europe.
But there are also signs the growing financial muscle of Russian clubs means they can attract top players. Last week Dynamo Moscow splashed out £14m ($25.7m) to sign Porto pair Maniche and Costinha, who joined their former team-mate Derlei in the Russian capital. Spartak paid £8.2m (12m euros) for talented young Argentine Fernando Cavenaghi and Lokomotiv brought home Russia striker Dmitri Sychev from Olympique Marseille.
Tuesday, 17 May 2005
Feeling blah !
I'm finding these days I am increasingly finding myself in situations where the disincentives exceed the incentives, and I don't have the energy nor the inclination to explore either people, places, thoughts or a combination of all three. Stimulatory ROIs appears negligible and negative net present values abound. Life is increasingly taking on a monochromatic tone, where sound appears to be pressed on Mute permanently, there is a disconnect between the subtitles and action taking place, and literally everything appears to happen in slow motion.
And when is summer going to show her head ?
And when is summer going to show her head ?
Thursday, 12 May 2005
On umbrellas and superpowers....
How can China attempt to harbour imperial ambitions of superseding the US as the next global economic superpower when they can't even make decent umbrellas ??? Three hours later, I'm just about dried out after my new 'Made in China' umbrella broke on me during a raining lunchtime trip, leaving me drenched and silently cursing every slanty eyed oriental I came across in downtown Toronto. I had only bought it this very morning from a Shoppers' Drug Mart store for $4.99 CAD, thinking - vah ! - what a world beating competitive price those Cheenay importers are doing. In future, I'll stick to paying triple price for something made on this side of the Pacific....
Wednesday, 11 May 2005
Desi lunch
Just around the corner from where I work there's an eating place I only recently discovered by accident. It's a Pak owned dhaba style restaurant frequented mainly by Toronto's desi taxi drivers (the number of parked taxis outside gives a clue to the clientele base). I'd been there once before with a work colleague to get a lunch take-out and so I didn't get much time to admire the salubrious surroundings. :)
Anyway, yesterday I was in the area on a lunchtime errand when I decided to step in again and go for a taste of home (albeit from the other side of the LOC - haha !). Step through the doors and it felt like I was in a different world. A hybrid mixture of Urdu/Punjabi was being spoken by customers and staff alike (all brown, all male, and 90% had a moustache). Framed photos adorned the walls of various Pak entertainment celebrities standing with the restaurant owner, there was a notice in English saying "Do not shout your order to kitchen staff. Please order here", and various other signs in that squiggly undecipherable right to left writing you folks are so fond of... :-)). And to top it all, there was this gigantic king kong sized large screen TV which appeared to be precariously suspended in mid-air playing a series of copied Punjabi/Bollywood video songs with what looked liked, (if memory serves me right of Lollywood movies), of an older looking white faced Reema running around on stage as if her feet were on fire.....
Looking at the food on display and it was a case of meat, meat, meat, veg, meat, meat, veg, rice and so on. I ordered and sat by the only vacant table. Either side of me, animated discussions were taking place. To the right were a group of men talking in Punjabi about the Liberal government and how they should lose the next election because of the gay marriage issue. To the left appeared to be mournful looking desi talking in Urdu to his pal about what seemed to be his marriage problems. From what I could gather, his begum appeared to be a bit of a dragon. Oh well...
Twenty minutes later, I was outside in the bright sunshine heading back to the anglo-saxon corporate world. But I'm sure I'll be back again soon.... :))
Anyway, yesterday I was in the area on a lunchtime errand when I decided to step in again and go for a taste of home (albeit from the other side of the LOC - haha !). Step through the doors and it felt like I was in a different world. A hybrid mixture of Urdu/Punjabi was being spoken by customers and staff alike (all brown, all male, and 90% had a moustache). Framed photos adorned the walls of various Pak entertainment celebrities standing with the restaurant owner, there was a notice in English saying "Do not shout your order to kitchen staff. Please order here", and various other signs in that squiggly undecipherable right to left writing you folks are so fond of... :-)). And to top it all, there was this gigantic king kong sized large screen TV which appeared to be precariously suspended in mid-air playing a series of copied Punjabi/Bollywood video songs with what looked liked, (if memory serves me right of Lollywood movies), of an older looking white faced Reema running around on stage as if her feet were on fire.....
Looking at the food on display and it was a case of meat, meat, meat, veg, meat, meat, veg, rice and so on. I ordered and sat by the only vacant table. Either side of me, animated discussions were taking place. To the right were a group of men talking in Punjabi about the Liberal government and how they should lose the next election because of the gay marriage issue. To the left appeared to be mournful looking desi talking in Urdu to his pal about what seemed to be his marriage problems. From what I could gather, his begum appeared to be a bit of a dragon. Oh well...
Twenty minutes later, I was outside in the bright sunshine heading back to the anglo-saxon corporate world. But I'm sure I'll be back again soon.... :))
Monday, 9 May 2005
Mother's Day
Yesterday it was Mother's Day (well in Canada anyway, in the UK it happens earlier). It occurred to me as I was watching the tv advertisements for Florists and un-subtle reminders of this 'special' consumer day, that parenthood appears to be happening later and later in many people's lives here in the West. Part of it is undoubtedly to do with the transition from an industrial to a knowledge-based economy, with a greater emphasis on an educated workforce meaning more years having to be spent in higher education etc. Scanning the job adverts in local papers, nowadays it appears one needs a university degree as a pre-requiste before even consider applying for entry level clerical positions. Many individuals do not enter the job market until their mid-20s, and therefore would not be in position to entertain thoughts of marriage (and subsequent parenthood) until much later.
The second part is more cultural. We have a whole generation that has grown up on a diet of American cultural media products such as 'Sex and the City' and 'Friends' (or 'Coupling' - the UK product - just to keep things balanced :) ), where the focus is at the atomic individualistic level, where it's all about (in varying degrees) hedonism, about instant gratification, about lonely pathetic individuals trying vainly to seek 'fulfillment' on a bleak urban landscape who equate sex with love, and love with shopping. It's all about the ubiquitous 'finding yourself' - which you can explain to your 30-something superficial dinner party friends, who no doubt will rejoice in this affirmation of being 'independent' (and childless) urban white collar warriors....
Carrying on this theme of 'finding yourself' last week I had a conversation with a gora work colleague who is 35, about his girlfriend (of same age) who was expecting their first child. After congratulating him on his impending fatherhood, he mentioned they had decided to wait because a) they wanted to be sure that they liked each other (after living with each other for 9 years) b) wanted to go on holidays 2 or 3 times a year and c) now they were sure, and next year they could get married....
..I did some quick mental arithmetic afterwards. If his future offspring adopted the same attitude as him, got married at 35, and say decided to wait a couple of years to have first child(37 years), he would be like, 74 years old when he becomes a grandparent...wow - what a thought.
Addendum:
LOL...I'm not quite sure what the point of my post was. I probably sound like some fundamentalist mullah (complete with obligatory henna dyed beard), or some puppet of new Pope Benedict drumming the beat for 'family values' etc. I don't know why I wrote all of the above...I think I'm becoming mentally unstable.... :)
The second part is more cultural. We have a whole generation that has grown up on a diet of American cultural media products such as 'Sex and the City' and 'Friends' (or 'Coupling' - the UK product - just to keep things balanced :) ), where the focus is at the atomic individualistic level, where it's all about (in varying degrees) hedonism, about instant gratification, about lonely pathetic individuals trying vainly to seek 'fulfillment' on a bleak urban landscape who equate sex with love, and love with shopping. It's all about the ubiquitous 'finding yourself' - which you can explain to your 30-something superficial dinner party friends, who no doubt will rejoice in this affirmation of being 'independent' (and childless) urban white collar warriors....
Carrying on this theme of 'finding yourself' last week I had a conversation with a gora work colleague who is 35, about his girlfriend (of same age) who was expecting their first child. After congratulating him on his impending fatherhood, he mentioned they had decided to wait because a) they wanted to be sure that they liked each other (after living with each other for 9 years) b) wanted to go on holidays 2 or 3 times a year and c) now they were sure, and next year they could get married....
..I did some quick mental arithmetic afterwards. If his future offspring adopted the same attitude as him, got married at 35, and say decided to wait a couple of years to have first child(37 years), he would be like, 74 years old when he becomes a grandparent...wow - what a thought.
Addendum:
LOL...I'm not quite sure what the point of my post was. I probably sound like some fundamentalist mullah (complete with obligatory henna dyed beard), or some puppet of new Pope Benedict drumming the beat for 'family values' etc. I don't know why I wrote all of the above...I think I'm becoming mentally unstable.... :)
Friday, 6 May 2005
Milkha Singh - the Flying Sikh
For the man who won 77 of the 80 races he ran, Milkha Singh has no medals. It has been some years that 'The Flying Sikh' donated his sporting treasures to the nation. No personal souvenirs line his living room walls, no trophies sit on the mantle. Instead, the walls make do with pictures of the surgeon in America who saved his wife's life and Havildar Bikram Singh, a Kargil martyr.
"I have given permission that my medals be transferred from the Jawaharlal Nehru stadium in New Delhi to the sports museum in Patiala," says the 72-year-old Singh. Strangely, the stadium gallery lined with many of India's sporting talent does not have a single picture of Milkha Singh. In a country where great sportspersons are few and far between, India has a strange way of honouring its stars.
Milkha Singh's achievements can do without such testimony. "The people of this country remember me. I may have started dyeing my beard but I am recognised at airports, railway stations -- anywhere. School textbooks have chapters on me, and somehow the sobriquet 'The Flying Sikh' has endured in people's memory," he says
Singh, however, has no complaints about the recognition given to him by the government. A Padma Shri winner, the legendary athlete who started his career on a Rs 10 wage went on to become director, sports, ministry of education in the Punjab government. "I have received more than I deserved."
It was a hard uphill climb for the refugee from Muzaffargarh in west Pakistan. The Partition massacres of 1947 took the lives of his parents and Singh was rejected by the army thrice. He subsequently enrolled in the army's electrical mechanical engineering branch in 1952 when his brother Malkhan Singh put in a word for him, and experienced his first sport outing at its athletics meet a fortnight later.
"That was the first time I saw a ground bedecked with flags," reminisces Singh. "I later participated in a crosscountry race with 300 to 400 jawans. And sat down after the first half mile before starting again -- that was my first race."
Determined to be the best and realising his talent as a sprinter, the jawan took to training five hours every day. Motivated by his coach Havildar Gurdev Singh, he left it to the elements to hone his craft -- running on the hills, the sands of the Yamuna river, and against the speed of a metre gauge train. He says so intense was his training that very often he vomitted blood and would collapse in exhaustion.
Every morning Milkha Singh still goes for a jog by the Sukhna lake in Chandigarh. Most afternoons are spent playing golf and he uses the gym in his house regularly. "Discipline. You have to be disciplined if you want to be world class," he says, "That's what I tell my son Jeev. I give him the example of Tiger Woods, and hope he would bring the medal I couldn't."
Jeev Milkha Singh, India's best golfer, was recently awarded the Arjuna Award and is striving to make a mark on the international golf circuit. Whether he does manage to bring the sporting glory that eluded his father, is yet to be seen. Till then, it is a disappointment that Milkha Singh will never forget. Forty years on, that failure in Rome still haunts him.
After clocking a world record 45.8 seconds in one of the 400 metres preliminaries in France, Milkha Singh finished fourth in a photofinish in the Olympics final. The favourite for gold had missed the bronze. By a fraction...
"Since it was a photofinish, the announcements were held up. The suspense was excruciating. I knew what my fatal error was: After running perilously fast in lane five, I slowed down at 250 metres. I could not cover the lost ground after that -- and that cost me the race."
"After the death of my parents, that is my worst memory," says Singh, "I kept crying for days." Dejected by his defeat, he made up his mind to give up sport. It was after much persuasion that he took to athletics again. Two years later, Milkha Singh won two medals at the 1962 Asian Games. But by then his golden period was over.
It was between 1958 and 1960 that Milkha Singh saw the height of glory. From setting a new record in the 200 and 400 metres at the Cuttack National Games, he won two gold medals at the Asian Games at Tokyo. The lean Sikh went on to win gold at the Commonwealth Games in Cardiff, and was awarded the Helms trophy or being the best athlete in 1959.
Three years before the Indo-Pak war of 1965, Milkha Singh ran that one race which made President Ayub Khan christen him 'The Flying Sikh.' His defeat of Pakistan's leading athlete and winner of the 100 metres gold at the Tokyo Asiad, Abdul Khaliq, earned him India's bestknown sports sobriquet. "It has stuck since," he adds.
Thirtysix years later, Britain's Ann Packer remembers him too. This time for his camaraderie. Jittery about her performance in the 800 metres against formidable French German and Hungarian athletes in the Tokyo Olympics in 1964, Packer clearly remembered her encounter with Singh in the lift they shared on the day of her event. 'Ann you vill win,' she recounted Singh's words to a The Sunday Times journalist at her home in Cheshire recently.
And vin she did. Packer clocked 2min 1.1 sec and set a new world record. Singh was among the first to congratulate her.
There are many who still congratulate Milkha Singh. "Sirji, I remember seeing you when I was a young recruit in the army," said Gairwar Singh as he chanced upon the former athlete getting into his car outside the Chandigarh Golf Club. Elated that Singh stops to shake hands with him, Gairwar Singh -- now a driver with a transport company in Delhi -- tells him about his interest in wrestling.
"It is appreciation from the people that helps me go ahead at this age," Singh had earlier said at his home in Sector 8. With two of his daughters married and one away in the United States, and his son travelling around the world regularly -- Singh says he enjoys the tranquility. Last year, he adopted the seven-year-old son of Havildar Bikram Singh who died in the Battle for Tiger Hill. The child is at a boarding school and Singh has taken on the responsibility of bringing him up.
"We owe it to those who have died for the honour of our country," he says, "Unlike our cricketers who have sold our country." Deeply disappointed with these ambassadors of India's most popular game, he firmly believes the guilty should be punished. "They cannot mock the aspirations of an entire nation," says Singh surveying the debris of many a fallen sporting icon.
Decades after he hung up his running shoes, one thing is for sure -- the Flying Sikh still stands tall.
******************************
Jeev Milkha Singh on his father:
Whenever I look at Milkha Singh, I see a dedicated and determined human being. He enforced strict discipline in me in particular and was very tough at times.
He wanted me to become a better golfer. There is no way I can match him in any manner. I have always looked up to him for what he has done for the country. He is a great motivator and if anyone takes his advice he is bound to excel in life.
I was not even born when he quit running. This is my biggest misfortune. Of course, I have seen him jogging on the golf course to warm up before a game. I have watched some of the documentaries made on him and I am really impressed. It was nice to see him in action. To realise that 'The Flying Sikh' is none else than my father. I wish I had seen him participate in a competitive race in a stadium though, than see him on film.
I was 11 when I went to boarding school in Shimla. I had hardly entered my classroom when I heard a boy telling another boy that I was Milkha Singh's son. When I heard this, I realised my father was a big name in Indian sport. Till then it had never ever dawned on me that he is a legend.
He is a frank human being, a no-nonsense man, who does not take no for an answer. At 72, he still has the same drive. When I play golf with him, he wants to beat me. The zeal to be better than his opponent is still there. Like great athletes he believes there is nothing in the world you cannot achieve provided you have the will to do so.
If I were asked to list five of his great qualities, I would say he is honest, focussed and knows his goals. He has the determination to achieve his goals and has great motivation skills. Even an ordinary player can be moulded into a good one under his guidance. Last, but not least, he is a very disciplined human being.
He says if you have achieved one goal, then you should set your eyes on higher goals and continue your drive to do better and better. "If you have become the best in Asia, then you should try to be the best in the world" is what he tells me all the time.
He wanted me to become an athlete. But I wanted to play golf like he did after giving up athletics. He told me he had nothing against my playing golf. But he told me, "Son it is no use playing golf if you are not going to be the best. Whatever game you may play, you have to prove that nobody can beat you." When I am not doing well, he encourages me to do well. He has been a great source of inspiration.
But even Milkha Singh has his regret. Even now, he cannot forget the 400 metres at the Rome Olympics where he finished fourth in one of the most competitive races -- all four runners broke the world record and finished the race in four minutes. He is going to die with this regret at the back of his mind. Sometimes he becomes very emotional about this.
Milkha Singh is born once in many generations. I am lucky to have been born in his family and watch him from close quarters as his son.
Sinbad was my first 'desi' hero
Who remembers the Sinbad films ? There were 3 of them - the 7th Voyage, Golden Voyage and Eye of the Tiger which were all released at the cinema.
Growing up as a child in the 1970s in England, there was very little by way of role models in the popular media for a south asian kid to look upto. We hadn't yet made an impact in mainstream British culture, the National Front was creating trouble in Southall, many of our parents worked overtime, and we were trying to establish a succesful foundation for ourselves.
And then came along the Sinbad movies from of all places - Hollywood. Okay - so the stories were set in the Arabian gulf, but this tough guy in his beard and turban, wielding his curved scimitar against villains and monsters alike, represented a lot for an impressionable 8 year old kid of Indian Sikh immigrant parents. The men who fought alongside him looked the same shade of brown as me, the buildings had more than a passing architectural resemblance to a gurdwara or mosque, and the olive complexion of the alluring veiled women looked a refreshing contrast to the anaemic pasty white faces I was used to seeing.
Growing up as a child in the 1970s in England, there was very little by way of role models in the popular media for a south asian kid to look upto. We hadn't yet made an impact in mainstream British culture, the National Front was creating trouble in Southall, many of our parents worked overtime, and we were trying to establish a succesful foundation for ourselves.
And then came along the Sinbad movies from of all places - Hollywood. Okay - so the stories were set in the Arabian gulf, but this tough guy in his beard and turban, wielding his curved scimitar against villains and monsters alike, represented a lot for an impressionable 8 year old kid of Indian Sikh immigrant parents. The men who fought alongside him looked the same shade of brown as me, the buildings had more than a passing architectural resemblance to a gurdwara or mosque, and the olive complexion of the alluring veiled women looked a refreshing contrast to the anaemic pasty white faces I was used to seeing.
Status of Punjabi in Pakistan
As an outsider, this makes for interesting reading...
The politics of language in Pakistan
Punjabi yet to get due status, despite struggle
by Nirupama Dutt (The Chandigarh Tribune)
A recent literary column in The Dawn, the leading paper of Pakistan, by Mushir Anwar has caused ripples in the Punjabi literary and intellectual circles in Punjab for it once again defends the imposition of Urdu as the official language of Punjab. In response to the very provocative statement made by Anwar — "Punjabi is an undeveloped form of Urdu" — Maqsood Saqib, editor of Pancham, a Punjabi monthly published in Pakistan, argued in a letter to the editor responding to the column. The letter titled 'Punjabi is Punjab's mother tongue', Saqib says, tongue in cheek, that if Urdu is being described as the language of the people of Punjab, then by that logic it may soon also be called the language of Japan!
Saying that Urdu should be seen as the federal language of Pakistan, linking the Baluchis, Sindhis, Pathans and Punjabis, Saqib goes on to say that it should not be thrust upon the Punjabis. He further adds: "The demand for the Punjabi language as a medium of instruction in Punjab is as old as the birth of Pakistan and it is not a new thing for all of us. We should all endorse this demand, as the dropout rate of school-going children in Punjab is very high. One of the factors of this deplorable situation is that children are denied their basic human right to read and write in their mother language." However, the newspaper did not carry this letter as the politics of language in Pakistan is biased in favour of the Urdu language. Circulating this letter online, Saqib says: "I wrote this letter in response to that column but the paper has not carried it. The reasons for this are all too obvious."
When Saqib says that the struggle for getting Punjabi its due status in Punjab is as old as the birth of Pakistan, it is not an exaggeration. And the situation today is not happy for a language that is the mother tongue of the majority of the people in Pakistan. As the census figures go Punjabi (including Saraiki, Hindko and other varying dialects) is the "commonly spoken in household" language of 60.43 per cent Pakistanis, followed by Pushto for 13.4 per cent, Sindhi for 11.7 per cent, Urdu for 7.60 per cent and Baluchi for 3.02 per cent. In spite of this Punjabi has no official status either in Pakistan or in West Punjab. The medium of instruction in the schools in West Punjab is Urdu, and to a lesser extent English. A study conducted in 2001 shows that there is not a single Punjabi medium school in the country. On the other hand there are 36, 750 Sindhi medium schools in Sindh and 10,731 Pushto schools in the North-West Frontier Province.
While the people of East Punjab in India too have had to struggle for getting Punjabi its due official status, the situation has never been so bad. This so especially because of the Sikh Punjabis whose sacred text, Guru Granth Sahib, is in Punjabi in the Gurmukhi script.
If we are to study this phenomenon in the context here to East Punjab, Punjabi was often seen as the poor rustic cousin of Urdu and Hindi. Punjabi parents often speak to their children in Hindi and that is often the peer-group language. To some extent the Sikh identity has been able to reverse trends. In Punjab we find people choosing to speak in English and Punjabi and rejecting Hindi. However, the Punjabis living in metropolis, by and large still suffer from low self-esteem as far as their lingual identity goes.
However, it is heartening to meet a group of committed writers, artists, teachers and other intellectuals who have been working ceaselessly as language activists. In the forefront is the name of a senior poet-playwright of Punjabi called Syed Najm Hosain, who was the founder head of the Department of Punjabi in Punjab University at Lahore. Every Friday there is a Sangat held in his home on The Mall in Lahore and the practice has been going on for three decades. Writers, painters and others get together to read and sing Sufi poetry as well as the verses of the Sikh Gurus. Many of them have learnt the Gurmukhi script to bridge the Shahmukhi-Gurmukhi gap between West Punjab and East Punjab. For Shahmukhi is the name for the Persian script used to write Punjabi in Pakistan.
Zubair Ahmad, a Punjabi writer who also takes care of the Kitab Trinjan Trust that publishes books in Punjabi, says: " Punjabi language has never been encouraged by the media and the establishment but the writers have done their bit and are still doing it. We have had fine poets like Munir Niazi and Ustad Daman. Ustad Daman was a true product of the oral, a poet of baaghs (gardens). Put behind bars by all rulers for reciting his poetry in public places, his only book was published posthumously by his friends and pupils."
Punjabi fiction has some prominent names like Mansha Yaad, Fakhar Zaman of the World Punjabi Conferences fame, Anwar Ali and Ahmed Salim. And now Saqib has taken the lead and started printing books in Gurmukhi too.
The struggle for getting the mother tongue its due has been a long one and still very little has been achieved for there are forces that will even shy away from publishing a letter to the editor in favour of Punjabi. So when Eric Cyprrian, a Pakistani communist leader and an early language activist in Pakistan called Punjabis in Pakistan, 'A people without a language' he was making a scathing comment on the establishment. Otherwise, Punjabi continues to be in vigorous use in homes, bazaars, teahouses, mazaars of the Sufi poets and saints as well as the streets. When will the Pakistani officialdom wake up to this reality?
The politics of language in Pakistan
Punjabi yet to get due status, despite struggle
by Nirupama Dutt (The Chandigarh Tribune)
A recent literary column in The Dawn, the leading paper of Pakistan, by Mushir Anwar has caused ripples in the Punjabi literary and intellectual circles in Punjab for it once again defends the imposition of Urdu as the official language of Punjab. In response to the very provocative statement made by Anwar — "Punjabi is an undeveloped form of Urdu" — Maqsood Saqib, editor of Pancham, a Punjabi monthly published in Pakistan, argued in a letter to the editor responding to the column. The letter titled 'Punjabi is Punjab's mother tongue', Saqib says, tongue in cheek, that if Urdu is being described as the language of the people of Punjab, then by that logic it may soon also be called the language of Japan!
Saying that Urdu should be seen as the federal language of Pakistan, linking the Baluchis, Sindhis, Pathans and Punjabis, Saqib goes on to say that it should not be thrust upon the Punjabis. He further adds: "The demand for the Punjabi language as a medium of instruction in Punjab is as old as the birth of Pakistan and it is not a new thing for all of us. We should all endorse this demand, as the dropout rate of school-going children in Punjab is very high. One of the factors of this deplorable situation is that children are denied their basic human right to read and write in their mother language." However, the newspaper did not carry this letter as the politics of language in Pakistan is biased in favour of the Urdu language. Circulating this letter online, Saqib says: "I wrote this letter in response to that column but the paper has not carried it. The reasons for this are all too obvious."
When Saqib says that the struggle for getting Punjabi its due status in Punjab is as old as the birth of Pakistan, it is not an exaggeration. And the situation today is not happy for a language that is the mother tongue of the majority of the people in Pakistan. As the census figures go Punjabi (including Saraiki, Hindko and other varying dialects) is the "commonly spoken in household" language of 60.43 per cent Pakistanis, followed by Pushto for 13.4 per cent, Sindhi for 11.7 per cent, Urdu for 7.60 per cent and Baluchi for 3.02 per cent. In spite of this Punjabi has no official status either in Pakistan or in West Punjab. The medium of instruction in the schools in West Punjab is Urdu, and to a lesser extent English. A study conducted in 2001 shows that there is not a single Punjabi medium school in the country. On the other hand there are 36, 750 Sindhi medium schools in Sindh and 10,731 Pushto schools in the North-West Frontier Province.
While the people of East Punjab in India too have had to struggle for getting Punjabi its due official status, the situation has never been so bad. This so especially because of the Sikh Punjabis whose sacred text, Guru Granth Sahib, is in Punjabi in the Gurmukhi script.
If we are to study this phenomenon in the context here to East Punjab, Punjabi was often seen as the poor rustic cousin of Urdu and Hindi. Punjabi parents often speak to their children in Hindi and that is often the peer-group language. To some extent the Sikh identity has been able to reverse trends. In Punjab we find people choosing to speak in English and Punjabi and rejecting Hindi. However, the Punjabis living in metropolis, by and large still suffer from low self-esteem as far as their lingual identity goes.
However, it is heartening to meet a group of committed writers, artists, teachers and other intellectuals who have been working ceaselessly as language activists. In the forefront is the name of a senior poet-playwright of Punjabi called Syed Najm Hosain, who was the founder head of the Department of Punjabi in Punjab University at Lahore. Every Friday there is a Sangat held in his home on The Mall in Lahore and the practice has been going on for three decades. Writers, painters and others get together to read and sing Sufi poetry as well as the verses of the Sikh Gurus. Many of them have learnt the Gurmukhi script to bridge the Shahmukhi-Gurmukhi gap between West Punjab and East Punjab. For Shahmukhi is the name for the Persian script used to write Punjabi in Pakistan.
Zubair Ahmad, a Punjabi writer who also takes care of the Kitab Trinjan Trust that publishes books in Punjabi, says: " Punjabi language has never been encouraged by the media and the establishment but the writers have done their bit and are still doing it. We have had fine poets like Munir Niazi and Ustad Daman. Ustad Daman was a true product of the oral, a poet of baaghs (gardens). Put behind bars by all rulers for reciting his poetry in public places, his only book was published posthumously by his friends and pupils."
Punjabi fiction has some prominent names like Mansha Yaad, Fakhar Zaman of the World Punjabi Conferences fame, Anwar Ali and Ahmed Salim. And now Saqib has taken the lead and started printing books in Gurmukhi too.
The struggle for getting the mother tongue its due has been a long one and still very little has been achieved for there are forces that will even shy away from publishing a letter to the editor in favour of Punjabi. So when Eric Cyprrian, a Pakistani communist leader and an early language activist in Pakistan called Punjabis in Pakistan, 'A people without a language' he was making a scathing comment on the establishment. Otherwise, Punjabi continues to be in vigorous use in homes, bazaars, teahouses, mazaars of the Sufi poets and saints as well as the streets. When will the Pakistani officialdom wake up to this reality?
Thursday, 5 May 2005
PSV Eindhoven 3 AC Milan 1
UEFA Champions League semi-final:
What an amazing game last night. PSV totally out-played and out-passed Milan, who seem unsure whether to attack or defend after their previous 2-0 lead from the first leg. Never seen PSV play before, but they can now me consider a fan of their style of play. It's a shame that they lost on the away goals rule, but to score 3 goals against one of meanest defences in Europe is no bad achievement.
Final: Liverpool v AC Milan (May 25th, Istanbul)
What an amazing game last night. PSV totally out-played and out-passed Milan, who seem unsure whether to attack or defend after their previous 2-0 lead from the first leg. Never seen PSV play before, but they can now me consider a fan of their style of play. It's a shame that they lost on the away goals rule, but to score 3 goals against one of meanest defences in Europe is no bad achievement.
Final: Liverpool v AC Milan (May 25th, Istanbul)
Wednesday, 4 May 2005
The illusion of platonic relationships
Why do people keep going on about the 'beauty' of platonic relationships ?? They should see it what is it really is - a mirage, maya, an illusion. And the worst part is when a friend of the opposite sex who persists in this charade start playing mind games and transgresses your personal boundaries - and then wonder why you've suddenly cut them off...
There is no such thing as a pure platonic relationship. Logically that would require both participants in the boy meet girl scenario to be at the exact same microscopic level of detached emotional /mental understanding. There will always be an inbalance or deficit between the two friends' levels of expectation. One person is bound to want more than the other - each one of us has a subconscious unwritten agenda, yes ? Our forefathers understood this concept centuries ago, and set demarcation lines regarding the level of casual interaction between the sexes.
Many of the so-called "platonic" relationships still carry on because there is an unwritten promise of a potential for something else to happen. One (or both) parties are happy for the charade to continue, because at some point in the future, there is the chance to be able to cash in on their investment in the friendship, and convert it into a romance, or at least a friendship with a sexual benefits package attached.
Hence a more apt term would be 'controlled relationship' as opposed to 'platonic'. Proceed with caution... :-)
SM
[Originally written in April 2004]
There is no such thing as a pure platonic relationship. Logically that would require both participants in the boy meet girl scenario to be at the exact same microscopic level of detached emotional /mental understanding. There will always be an inbalance or deficit between the two friends' levels of expectation. One person is bound to want more than the other - each one of us has a subconscious unwritten agenda, yes ? Our forefathers understood this concept centuries ago, and set demarcation lines regarding the level of casual interaction between the sexes.
Many of the so-called "platonic" relationships still carry on because there is an unwritten promise of a potential for something else to happen. One (or both) parties are happy for the charade to continue, because at some point in the future, there is the chance to be able to cash in on their investment in the friendship, and convert it into a romance, or at least a friendship with a sexual benefits package attached.
Hence a more apt term would be 'controlled relationship' as opposed to 'platonic'. Proceed with caution... :-)
SM
[Originally written in April 2004]
Under Another Sky
I wrote this back in March 2005:
Very shortly it will be my 5th anniversary of landing on Canadian soil. Five years ! I just can't believe how quickly time has flown by. Feels like only yesterday I was at Toronto's Pearson International Airport on a wintery day, waiting in line to have my landing papers scrutinized by an Immigration officer. Looking around the terminal I was surprised as to how many other new immigrant arrivals were here in the big country for the first time...each carrying their dreams and hopes of a new better life. Many people have different reasons for changing lands...some reasons are economic, others are emotional. I will not talk about my reasons, suffice to say that having accepted the challenge, the day I posted the application papers - than that became my Mount Everest, my aim, my peak to climb.....
On each anniversary of arriving in Canada, I open up a new page in my diary and write how I feel. This is what I wrote in 2001, one year after landing in my new country:
On the experience of emigrating...
As I live out my daily existence here in this urban landscape somewhere in Ontario, trying unsuccessfully to perfect my new North American accent (ie. putting a double 'R' sound into every word I say) and having to remember to drive on the other side, I sometimes get hit by waves of nostalgia for the shores I left behind. One misses the sights and sounds of a world that was so familiar, so intimately entwined in one's consciousness from birth to adulthood.
Changing countries definitely alters your perspectives on life. Initially, you judge everything by reference to the social and cultural benchmarks of your previous existence. Consequently, some things appear better, others worse. Some are more prepared for the initial disorientation, others less so. Personally, I've tried to alter my own mental parameters - the levels of expectation I assume from daily activities. Sometimes it helps to just "go with the flow", even if that flow appears to be edging towards a waterfall. I no longer ascribe value judgements to my new country's method of doing things....I just observe and try to understand....
Somebody once said something like "to discover new worlds you need to lose sight of the shore". This and other such profound statements I occasionally come across, help to rationalize and provide a positive insight to my own and others' reasons for being here.
Well, I'm starting to understand Canadian humour (I barely twitched a facial muscle in my first six months), and no longer mind getting tailgated at 120 kph - so things are definitely looking up....
Very shortly it will be my 5th anniversary of landing on Canadian soil. Five years ! I just can't believe how quickly time has flown by. Feels like only yesterday I was at Toronto's Pearson International Airport on a wintery day, waiting in line to have my landing papers scrutinized by an Immigration officer. Looking around the terminal I was surprised as to how many other new immigrant arrivals were here in the big country for the first time...each carrying their dreams and hopes of a new better life. Many people have different reasons for changing lands...some reasons are economic, others are emotional. I will not talk about my reasons, suffice to say that having accepted the challenge, the day I posted the application papers - than that became my Mount Everest, my aim, my peak to climb.....
On each anniversary of arriving in Canada, I open up a new page in my diary and write how I feel. This is what I wrote in 2001, one year after landing in my new country:
On the experience of emigrating...
As I live out my daily existence here in this urban landscape somewhere in Ontario, trying unsuccessfully to perfect my new North American accent (ie. putting a double 'R' sound into every word I say) and having to remember to drive on the other side, I sometimes get hit by waves of nostalgia for the shores I left behind. One misses the sights and sounds of a world that was so familiar, so intimately entwined in one's consciousness from birth to adulthood.
Changing countries definitely alters your perspectives on life. Initially, you judge everything by reference to the social and cultural benchmarks of your previous existence. Consequently, some things appear better, others worse. Some are more prepared for the initial disorientation, others less so. Personally, I've tried to alter my own mental parameters - the levels of expectation I assume from daily activities. Sometimes it helps to just "go with the flow", even if that flow appears to be edging towards a waterfall. I no longer ascribe value judgements to my new country's method of doing things....I just observe and try to understand....
Somebody once said something like "to discover new worlds you need to lose sight of the shore". This and other such profound statements I occasionally come across, help to rationalize and provide a positive insight to my own and others' reasons for being here.
Well, I'm starting to understand Canadian humour (I barely twitched a facial muscle in my first six months), and no longer mind getting tailgated at 120 kph - so things are definitely looking up....
Review: Step Across This Line (Salman Rushdie)
This is an amazing book. I've read and re-read this countless times. Okay - so I find Rushdie a touch arrogrant and lardy-da pretentious when I see his interviews on TV, but giving credit where it's due, this collection of non-fiction essays and personal reflections is the best collection of essays I have read to date from any author.
On the subject of the fatwa, Rushdie in an essay dated Feb 1999 writes: "Yes, all right, on February 14 it will be ten years since I received my unfunny Valentine." He describes the conflict between wanting to continue to his love of writing literature, and yet having to defend his right to live in the face of bigotry and ignorance.
Rushdie writes on a wide variety of subjects. His observations on that classic film 'The Wizard of Oz' with it's subliminal messages are sheer brilliance and extremely funny at times. On the creator of Oz: "Frank Baum did not make up the ruby slippers. He called them Silver Shoes. Baum believed that America's stability required a switch from the gold to the silver standard, and the shoes were a metaphor of the magical advantages of Silver". However, in later script changes, the shoes were changed from silver to ruby because the film was going to be produced in colour.
In other essays, he writes of his love for football (soccer), the political challenges of adapting Midnight's Children for television, the 9/11 attacks, the bible bigots who enforce the teaching of creationism in American mid-west schools, and the contrasting prospects for progress and modernity between India and Pakistan.
An excellent read. 9/10.
Tuesday, 3 May 2005
Review: 'Oryx and Crake' (Margaret Atwood)
Good book !
Set in a dystopian apocalyptic future, the novel revolved around a character called Snowman, who finds himself to be the last human alive on an Earth devastated by a man-made plague. Much of the novel takes on the form of a flashback narrative, as Snowman recounts the horrifying events that led to the apocalypse. What the book may lack in terms of technical hard core sci-fi setting, it more than makes up with it's dissection and probing of the human spirit through adversity.
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